Persuasion: Behind the Scenes

By Maria Grace and Susan Mason Milks

You pierce my soul.

Before Jane Austen wrote that romantic letter from Captain Frederick Wentworth to Anne Elliot, she crafted a masterful story of heartbreak and longing that still resonates with readers today.

But what of those scenes that Jane Austen never wrote?  What Persuasion fan doesn't want to listen in on Anne and Wentworth's first courtship, laugh at the follies and foibles of the Elliot family, sail along on Captain Wentworth's harrowing adventures at sea or attend Wentworth and Anne's wedding.

Twelve authors of Austen-inspired fiction:  Diana Birchall, Marilyn Brant, Jack Caldwell, L.L. Diamond, Maria Grace, Cassandra Grafton, Kara Louise, Susan Mason-Milks, Jane Odiwe, C. Allyn Pierson, Mary Lydon Simonsen, and Shannon Winslow collaborated to put this unique collection that fills in "missing" scenes from Austen's classic work, sure to delight any true Persuasion fan.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jane Austen Variations
• Release date: Feb 14, 2019
• ISBN: 9781386834342

Maria Grace

Though Maria Grace has been writing fiction since she was ten years old, those early efforts happily reside in a file drawer and are unlikely to see the light of day again, for which many are grateful. After penning five file-drawer novels in high school, she took a break from writing to pursue college and earn her doctorate in Educational Psychology. After 16 years of university teaching, she returned to her first love, fiction writing.   She has one husband, two graduate degrees and two black belts, three sons, four undergraduate majors, five nieces, six more novels in draft form, waiting for editing, seven published novels, sewn eight Regency era costumes, shared her life with nine cats through the years and tries to run at least ten miles a week.    

Book preview

A Beginning and an End

BY SHANNON WINSLOW

THE END APPROACHED. As Lady Elizabeth Elliot lay there, gravely ill and helpless, on what she expected would prove to be her deathbed, she could no longer flatter herself that it might be otherwise. Although she had no particular fear for what was to come, she did have enough duty and pleasure in this life as to make her very sorry indeed to be quitting it so soon – especially to be leaving behind her children in want of love and proper guidance. In vexation of spirit, she wondered who was to provide them these and other necessities when she was gone, certainly not her husband, Sir Walter.

Looking back over a life too brief, Lady Elliot regretted nothing so much as that she had been far too careless in the choosing of her children’s father. The match had seemed ideal seventeen years before, at once both satisfying her family’s ambitions and gratifying her own wishes in the case. High in her parents’ consideration was the fact that young Mr. Walter Elliot was to be a baronet one day–sooner rather than later, judging from the indifferent state of his father’s health. For herself, Mr. Elliot was everything handsome and charming. He had a fine home at Kellynch Hall to offer her as well. What more could a naïve girl of nineteen have desired in a husband?

In hindsight, she could (and should) have desired a great deal more–prudence, sound understanding, strength of character, humility – less for her own sake perhaps than for her three daughters, whom she must now resign to Sir Walter’s questionable guardianship.

Mary was young enough, Lady Elliot reasoned, to recover from her loss in time. And, at sixteen, Elizabeth’s character was already so firmly formed in the image of her father as to make the matter of her mother’s staying or going of little consequence. But Anne! Yes, it was for her middle daughter that Lady Elliot’s maternal solicitude was most powerfully engaged. Anne, with her gentle nature and delicacy of mind, was the one most like and most inextricably attached to herself. Anne would feel the loss of her mother exceedingly, and she would be least able to bear with Sir Walter’s folly and neglect.

She must prepare her daughter, while there was still time, but Lady Elliot hardly knew what to say. How could one prepare a girl of fourteen for such a calamity?

Mama, said an adolescent female stepping lightly in from the passageway. Although the girl was far too young to have yet attained any true womanly beauty, clearly written in her features was the promise of one day being called at least ‘pretty.’ You wished to see me? she asked.

Lady Elliot smiled weakly. Anne. Yes, my dear, come and sit by me for a while. We have many things to talk about. She reached out her hand, trying to stay its trembling fingers, just as she also sought to steady her emotions for the coming conversation.

Taking her mother’s hand and settling on the bed beside her, the girl asked, What kind of things?

Well, we shall discuss whatever you wish. Only first there is one subject in particular I must speak to you about. It will not wait, and you must promise to be brave, my darling girl. Can you do that for me?

Anne’s lower lip began to quiver and the first glistening of tears appeared in her eyes.

Lady Elliot squeezed the girl’s hand all the tighter. I think you must be able to guess what I am about to say. She waited until finally a silent Anne nodded. It is that I must soon leave you.

Why must you, Mama? Anne cried, throwing herself into her mother’s embrace. It isn’t fair!

I know it does not seem so to us, she said, stroking her daughter’s flaxen hair. But when God calls us home, we have no choice other than to go. Remember, though, heaven is a paradise and not a place of tears, so you must not weep for me.

May I not weep for myself? Anne sobbed.

For a time, certainly. It is only natural that you should. Lady Elliot allowed her daughter to do so for several minutes unhindered. Now sit up and look at me, she then continued, gently chucking the girl under her chin to urge her compliance. After you have had a good cry out, you must dry your eyes and be happy again. This life is far too fleeting to waste one extra minute on mourning or regrets. I would not have you languishing and forlorn on my account, Anne. I wish to see you strong, sensible, and smiling when I look down from heaven. Understand?

A miserable Anne straightened, sniffed hard, and wiped her eyes. I will try my best, Mama, she said at last, if I must.

Good girl. I knew I could depend on you. Your father, on the other hand... Lady Elliot sighed deeply. "Well...your father is your father, and you must respect him as such. As for wise counsel, however, I commend you to Lady Russell’s care. She has been my dear friend and confidant these many years and like a second mother to you. I know she will do her best to stand in my place, to always advise you as I would have done myself. You must listen to her, my child," said Lady Elliot with a most earnest look into her daughter’s eyes.

Yes, Mama.

And who knows but what she may be your mother in truth one day. To be sure, it would be a fine thing for you girls if she would take up that office, but...Oh, I cannot say it would be the making of her own happiness. No, perhaps she is better off as she is...

Lady Elliot, who had started this interview seated nearly upright in bed, thanks to an accumulation of bracing pillows, had throughout the course of the conversation slumped lower and lower. Her eyelids now drooped heavily and her voice was fading. 

Observing this, Anne asked, Are you tired, Mama? Shall I go?

No, do stay, my dear, Lady Elliot replied, releasing her daughter’s young, lithesome hand, which formed such a sharp contrast her own, thin and discolored by disease as it was. I will just rest my eyes for a minute, if I might, and then I will be quite refreshed. Tell me about the garden, Anne. Are the roses still blooming? It is so long since I have walked among the roses...

From her mother, Anne had acquired an appreciation for all green and growing things, especially roses of every description. Although the garden had lately been pushed far from her mind by more pressing concerns, she knew it must be near the end of the flowering season. Surely the Gallica and Damask roses would have long gone by, but perhaps a few of the Chinas still carried on despite the late summer heat. Anne went to the window to see.

The rose garden lay just below, but it was in a sorry state. Although neat and tidy as ever, the ground looked parched and the shrubbery sadly depleted–not a single bloom in sight. It was too late for anybody seeking roses there.

Anne returned to her mother’s bed to discover that scene just as hopeless. No roses there either. In fact, nearly all color seemed to have fled from the sleeper’s cheeks, and barely a wisp of life remained. Anne knew it was true then; her mother was dying and there was not a single thing she could do to stop it happening. Stricken, Anne dropped to her knees at the side of the bed and wept.

William Elliot Meets His Cousin

BY C. ALLYN PIERSON

WILLIAM ELLIOT HOVERED near the refreshment table at Almack's, bored nearly to tears by the simpering young misses preening and posturing at The Marriage Mart. He would prefer to be drinking with his friends or trying out that new gambling hell he heard of this week, but his empty pockets made a wealthy wife a must before he could indulge in such entertainments. He was not too particular about her looks or breeding, as long as she had a large fortune that was fully her own and not shared among a quiver full of sisters, or encumbered with trusts that limited his access to the money.

He had already danced with several of the wallflowers, hunched next to their avid chaperones and even at the beginning of the season knowing that their plain faces would condemn them to a Season consisting of a long string of chairs with a view of the dance floor...at least until the beauties were all engaged and out of the way. William had enjoyed the grateful blushes of these pathetic girls...he was so kind to give these ugly ducklings his gracious condescension! Unfortunately, he had quickly determined that none of these depressing debutantes were the only chick in their family nest and, although most had dowries adequate to buy them a husband (eventually), they did not come with a dowry sufficient to make them worth his time.

He bowed gracefully to the last of the wallflowers as he returned her to the harpy who was being paid to bring her out and strolled around the edge of the dance floor again. A gentle tug on his exquisitely tailored sleeve caused him to turn, to find his friend Smith giving him a warning look.

Elliot! Your cousin Sir Walter is here with his eldest daughter!

Truly? I was hoping to avoid them this Season. I thought my vast indifference to his letters would give him a hint. My cousin's self-consequence is unbelievable!

Yes, I know...do you think I have forgotten all of your comments about Sir Walter after he wrote to you after his wife died?

I suppose not. William smiled sardonically. His letters were exquisite sources of entertainment, were they not?

Truthfully, I don't recall them that well. What is it you object to in your cousin? Would it not be useful to be familiar with the property you will inherit and be in the good graces of your cousin? There is some property that is not entailed, is there not?

Very true, but my cousin, judging by past experience, is a pompous ass who talks about nothing but how important he is. He is a fool and I don't need him. I will inherit Kellynch with or without his approval!

I don't know about him, but his daughter is quite attractive. William turned in the direction Smith was indicating with a tip of his head and saw a tall, slender, stylish woman of about seventeen or eighteen years. She was dressed very much a là mode and it suited her...yes, it suited her very well.

Before he could turn back to Smith he was stopped by Lady Sefton, one of the chaperones. Mr. Elliot! Sir Walter Elliot would like to be introduced to you! Mr. William Elliot, Sir Walter Elliot, and, of course, Miss Elliot. Unable to avoid the meeting, William gave them each his most elegant bow.

Delighted Sir Walter. Miss Elliot.

Sir Walter immediately launched into expressions of delight upon meeting his heir. His glance covered every inch of William, from his perfectly curled coiffure to the mirror-like shine of his dancing pumps, and he clearly preened himself upon having such a well-looking heir. Within five minutes William was heartily bored with his cousin and felt his eyes turning glassy. He opened his mouth to excuse himself for a fabricated dance promised to another lady, but before he could open his lips Sir Walter turned to his daughter.

I am sure, Mr. Elliot, you would prefer to dance with Miss Elliot than stand around while others enjoy the dance.

Sir Walter gave his daughter a none too subtle nudge in the back, and when she eagerly took another step towards him he could not avoid the encounter. And, he was not sure he wanted to.  Miss Elliot was certainly a lovely young woman.  Why was she not yet married? He bowed to the inevitable and offered his cousin his arm. Miss Elliot was a graceful dancer, without a doubt. She was confident and able to carry on a conversation without being too shy or overly bold. Unfortunately, it took William only a few minutes to realize that his cousin had a rapacious eye and seemed to view him as her rightful prey. 

When the dance ended William bowed and excused himself as quickly as he could without rudeness and dragged Smith out of Almack's.

Lord! What a bore Sir Walter is! And he seems to think I should be falling all over to make his acquaintance! He is even worse than I thought from his letters!

Smith looked at him thoughtfully. Do you know what her dowry is? Perhaps she might be worth cultivating.

"Lord no, Smith! I checked Sir Walter out when he first started hinting about meeting...he hasn't a sou to his name! He can barely keep up on his servants' pay, let alone dower his daughters. He made it clear back then (although I'm not sure he realized how much he gave away) that he considers a marriage between Miss Elliot and myself to be the perfect way to ensure that his daughters are not left in the street when he dies! William shook his head in disgust. The only things of worth that he possesses are Kellynch Hall and his title...and I would sell the title for £ 50 if I could get it!  As far as Kellynch...it is out in the wilds of Somerset, miles from any refined society of any kind. The minute it is mine I will sell off every bit that is not entailed and do whatever I can to make a few pounds out of it."

The next morning William received an invitation from Sir Walter to a dinner party at their house in town. He sent his regrets, claiming a previous engagement, but two or three times over the next week Sir Walter sent other invitations, which William Elliot also declined. Lord, he thought. I'm going to run out of excuses if he doesn't leave London soon!

As he dodged around London, attempting to avoid the Elliots and enjoy himself cheaply while trying to find a suitably wealthy young lady to marry, he found himself with Smith one night at a public masquerade. William always enjoyed hobnobbing with the cruder elements of society and a masquerade was always a good place to meet ladies of less than the highest virtue. He had his eye on one with hair like dead grass and a dress that was far too tight to hold all of her charms and was just about to go make her acquaintance when Smith came back from the refreshment room, dragging a couple of drunken cits and a blushing young woman.

Elliot! Come meet my new friends! He rattled off their names, then paused. And this, Elliot, is Miss Agnes Chandler. Miss Chandler, Mr. Elliot. Mr. Elliot bowed and cocked an eyebrow at his friend. He knew that Smith would not bother him with an introduction unless these cits had something he wanted. The woman had some pockmarks and the type of face that looked old at 20 and did not change much over the years. Her plain features were not what he first took note of, however. Her gown was layers of fine silk embroidered with silver and pearls. Her pearls looked genuine...at least in the dim light of the masquerade, and there were multiple twists of them at her neck.

It is my pleasure Miss Chandler. She blushed again and took his offered hand. May I have this dance Miss Chandler? She accepted and he offered his arm.

Before they left for the dance floor Smith grabbed his ear and shouted into it, to be heard over the noise of the music and the roisterers, Her father owns most of the cotton mills in Manchester...and she's an only child. Mr. Elliot's eyes widened and a genuine smile spread over his face. Well done, Smith! By the end of the evening Miss Chandler was hanging on his arm, her face wreathed in smiles that revealed her large, rather yellow teeth. She had revealed that her two escorts were employed by her father, and outside of office hours, they were required to guard their employer's daughter and protect her from fortune hunters. Miss Chandler herself was eager to know him better and told him all the engagements she had in the coming week.

In addition to the prospects revealed by Miss Chandler, Mr. Elliot was relieved to hear from a friend that Sir Walter and Miss Elliot had returned to Somerset. That is one worry out of the way, Smith!  Now I can concentrate on Miss Chandler! Elliot was able to arrange an invitation to a dinner party Miss Chandler and her doting father were to be at. An introduction was performed and he worked his charm on her father, a stout man in elegant clothes, but with calluses on his hands. Elliot suppressed a sneer at his crude appearance and made himself treat Mr. Chandler with the utmost respect. Things were looking up...

Wentworth Visits His Brother

BY MARY SIMONSEN

YOU ARE RESTLESS, FREDERICK, Edward Wentworth said to his brother, and the younger sibling acknowledged as much. How do you manage when you are on a ship with no land in sight?

There is always something to do when you are at sea. Even if there is no French ship in sight, Poseidon is a temperamental neighbor. Just when you think you have smooth sailing, he uses his trident to stir up the waters, and you find yourself in the midst of a hurricane.

Tell me about Santo Domingo? Edward asked, eager for more stories about British ships of the line and the men who commanded them.

Frederick was happy to oblige as it was very likely that the Battle of Santo Domingo would be the making of him.

The stage was set in the Azores where the French had suffered much damage from a storm. Having managed to sail across the Atlantic undetected by our ships, it was at Santo Domingo where French Vice-Admiral Leissegues sought to regroup and repair his ships. But it was there that Vice-Admiral Duckworth found them, Frederick said, leaping to his feet.

"By the time the French lookouts saw us, it was too late. They immediately separated into two divisions, and in doing so, we were able to isolate and capture three ships before concentrating our efforts on Leissegues and the 120-gun Imperial. Badly damaged from our cannons, we surrounded the flagship. Desperate to avoid capture, Leissegues drove the ship on shore. The Diomede, the sole remaining French ship of the line, followed the floundering flagship to its sandy berth. Our boarding parties were soon ashore and finished what we had begun, setting the ships ablaze and providing a proper bonfire for all to enjoy."

And the French crews?

They were last seen running for the hills.

Edward retrieved several newspapers from a chest his brother had bought for him in Cadiz and pointed to Frederick’s name in the lists. You returned as a hero to a grateful nation. The House of Commons and the House of Lords voted their thanks. Here are Lord Grenville and Charles Grey’s speeches if you wish to read them.

Frederick dismissed his brother’s offer. Although accolades are always welcome, it is the prize money that truly captures the imagination of the crew, Frederick said, laughing.

"According to the paper, in addition to the bounties paid, additional prize money was disbursed for the captured Jupiter."

And do not forget the ceremonial plate and ornate swords made by the patriotic societies, and Admiral Louis got a baronetcy out of it as well.

What will you do with your prize money?

Having no wife, I shall spend it freely. I have always been lucky, and I have no doubt my luck will hold. There is more prize money in my future.

Your confidence amazes me, Frederick, the more timid of the two brothers stated.

I have chosen a profession fraught with uncertainty. If I am to succeed, I must be bold, but the rewards for commanding a fighting ship are considerable. And I am already seeing the results. After all, I went to Santo Domingo a lieutenant and returned a commander, and as soon as a ship is available, I shall be back at it.

You mentioned a wife. Has anyone in particular caught your fancy?

Frederick laughed. I talk of being bold, but capturing a French frigate is less of a challenge than finding the perfect wife for a sailing man. I have been in the company of many women. Some were extraordinarily beautiful, many were accomplished, and most were light on their feet. But only a few were truly aware of what the Royal Navy does to keep them safe. Fewer still were genuinely kind—a virtue I prize above all others. And of all the females I have met in Deal, Portsmouth, and even London, not one combined all of those attributes in the same person. But I am young, Edward, he said, slapping his brother on the back, and in no hurry. For the right woman, I am willing to wait as long as necessary.

The First Meeting

BY C. ALLYN PIERSON

ARE YOU SURE YOU DON’T want to go to the Winterthorpe’s dinner, Frederick? Edward Wentworth checked to make sure that his hair was combed and his bands neatly disposed before turning from the tiny shaving mirror to face his brother. The Winterthorpe ladies are not beauties, but they are accomplished and they will undoubtedly play after dinner.

I have met the Winterthorpe ladies, which you must recall, and they always make me feel like a rabbit surrounded by a pack of hungry wolves.

Edward laughed mockingly. Surely, the brave Commander Wentworth is not afraid of a few young ladies!

It’s not just the ladies, Edward! The parents always look like they are licking their lips hungrily any time there is a single gentleman in the room. I do believe that they think they may buy one of us for one of their plain daughters. They would not be so eager if we had a decent fortune...they know that their daughters have not the looks or fortune to capture a wealthy husband, but their dowries are enough to interest a couple of impecunious Wentworths!

Edward shrugged and grimaced as he sat near the fire, facing his brother, who leaned casually against the mantel. Perhaps. I am not likely to do better for a wife with only a pittance to my name and no contacts to help me with the gift of a living.

Frederick briefly grasped his brother’s shoulder before returning to his position in front of the fire. "Well, brother, Sophie is married to an officer and well settled and as long as there is a war going on I have a chance for prize money. I hope to make contacts that will help advance my career, so I hope all the Wentworths will have an increase in fortune."

Frederick thought about this conversation as he walked slowly upstairs. Edward seemed a bit cast down about his prospects for a wife and family. His current position was certainly not one likely to advance his ambitions. Holding a small living for a schoolboy son of his patron was not a position with a future. Any other livings the patron held would certainly go to his son, as well, when they became available. He was being selfish to refuse his company to his brother for the evening. He grinned at the face in his mirror as he ran a comb through his short hair. His brother might need protection from the accomplished Winterthorpes!

THE WINTERTHORPE MANOR was small but comfortable and the two Wentworth gentlemen were greeted warmly, or possibly a bit too warmly. Edward ran his finger around his clerical collar as if it was a bit too tight for comfort. Frederick smiled to himself and greeted their hosts politely. They were a bit late and were swept into the drawing room by their hostess and quickly introduced to the company. The names flew past Frederick as he bowed to each one, and within minutes they were seated at the table.

Frederick groaned to himself when he saw the table arrangements. He and his brother were seated with the eldest daughter between them and another daughter on the other side. Trapped! He resigned himself to the situation and politely conversed with his partners during the eternal dinner but was relieved when the ladies rose.

Mr. Winterthorpe was a clever man and did not keep the gentlemen long over their port. Within the half hour they rejoined the ladies in the drawing room, where the young ladies were encouraged to display on the pianoforte and the harp.

The Winterthorpe ladies were well taught but lacking in talent and feeling in their playing, and it was not long before Frederick felt his eyes glazing. As soon as they finished exhibiting the young Winterthorpe ladies rolled back the carpet and another young lady took over the pianoforte for dancing. As soon as she began to play Frederick’s head jerked up. This young lady was a musician! He examined her closely. She was the middle daughter of the local baronet, who was reputed to be filled with pride unwarranted by either intellect or talent. The baronet was a handsome man when he was not making insipid conversation about his own importance.

Frederick had realized within moments of meeting the Elliots that the head of the family was insufferable, and not much longer to realize that the eldest daughter was a true daughter of her father. He had hardly noticed the younger daughter as he fought down his repugnance for her relatives, but now he looked her over carefully as the dance formed.

Anne Elliot sat quietly at the pianoforte as the dancers milled around the floor. She was not handsome, as her sister was, and could easily be overlooked when around her self-important family members, but her features were delicate and pretty with large eyes and a delicate nose that perfectly complemented her fair hair. Her smooth skin had a faint pink blush to it that emphasized its perfection, and her hands on the piano keys were both elegant and confident.

Frederick was dragged onto the dance floor by one of the Winterthorpe girls...he hardly knew which one. When the dance was over he quickly went to the piano.

Miss Elliot? May I have the next dance?

She smiled up at him and he felt a shock. When she smiled she went from a pretty girl to an angel! He stumbled over the last word in his request and felt himself blush with embarrassment.

Her voice was musical and rather low pitched for her petite size when she answered.

Thank you Commander Wentworth, but we would need someone to play for us if I give in to your blandishments.

I’m sure one of the other ladies could take over your position. Please dance.

Their eyes locked and he felt that he sank into her intelligent eyes until he was likely to drown. He finally came to himself with a start when Miss Elliot rose and touched the arm of one of the other female guests and requested that she play the next dance.

When the Wentworths drove home, Frederick was silent, still remembering Miss Anne Elliot’s smile, her beautiful eyes, and her heart-shaped face. His dreams that night were about her sweet expression and clever conversation. He awoke hoping that he would see her again.

Two days later they received an invitation to Kellynch Hall for a ball. Edward would have demurred, feeling that it would not look well for a minister to be dancing at balls, but Frederick, to his brother’s surprise, insisted that they accept the invitation. He would not turn down the chance to meet Miss Anne again...

The Courtship

BY JANE ODIWE

ANNE ELLIOT PUT ON her white straw bonnet and made a bow of the blue ribbons under her chin. Summer was really here at last, and the soft warm air outside warranted a change to lighter clothes of a sprigged muslin gown with an embroidered Indian shawl. She sat in the window waiting for the familiar sight and sound of Lady Russell’s carriage and the expected visit of that lady and the curate, Mr. Wentworth, who would be joining her for their customary rounds of visiting those in need. Today it was the turn of one of the elderly spinsters in the village, Dame Staples, who had succumbed to a severe bout of influenza. Privately, Anne considered that the old lady might have enjoyed better health if her cottage was not so damp, but she knew her father spent the least amount of money on repairs and improvements for his tenants. Anne and Lady Russell did what they could with the help of kind Mr. Wentworth, but they all knew it was not enough.

Alone in the house, her father and sister Elizabeth were out shopping, and it was strangely quiet but for the ticking of the mantel clock striking the half hour. Lady Russell was late and Anne was beginning to wonder if she’d been forgotten when instead of seeing the familiar crested coach, she saw Mr. Wentworth’s gig coming down the driveway at some considerable speed. He was alone or so it seemed, but as he drew the horses up sharply with a spray of gravel, Anne saw it was not Mr. Wentworth at all. It was his brother, Commander Wentworth!

Anne’s feelings threatened to overwhelm her. On every occasion of their meeting she’d been drawn by his warmth of character, his wit and charm. Whether in church or at Winterthorpe Manor, the following ball at Kellynch or helping out at a garden party in the vicarage, Anne had been attracted to him and he to her. With their growing acquaintance, her esteem was intensifying. His brother was always a pleasant young man, but Frederick Wentworth was quite different. It was difficult to consider exactly what it was that set him apart, but he enthralled Anne. It wasn’t just a matter of his good character, and his good-looking countenance, which made him an amiable companion, but his air, coupled with his sense of confidence, exuded a certain self-belief.

She did not wait for him to be announced and set off for the door, anxious to know what had happened to her friends.

Captain Wentworth, this is an unexpected pleasure.

The commander bowed. Good day, Miss Elliot. I have no good news, I’m afraid, though do not be alarmed. I have been sent to convey you to Dame Staples’s cottage. Unfortunately, my brother has been called to administer last rites to an old gentleman over at the neighboring parish of Marlcombe, and Lady Russell thought it prudent to accompany him.

Oh dear, that is sad news, indeed.

Lady Russell wondered if, in the circumstances, Elizabeth might accompany us.

Anne saw, at once, the difficulty of the situation but there was no way round it. Dame Staples must be visited, she was too sick to neglect on a matter of propriety. Elizabeth is not here, Captain Wentworth, but it is vital that I take Dame Staples her basket of victuals and some freshly made medicine.

In that case, Miss Elliot, I hope you will allow me to accompany you.

Anne smiled by way of assent, and he quietly obliged her to be assisted into the carriage. She was soon set on the high seat; his hands placed her there in a moment. Feeling the touch of his strong fingers, his thumbs under her rib cage, and the consequent warmth left behind, caused such a sensation inside that Anne felt completely at odds.

The gig lurched, and they were off. To cover her confusion, Anne busied herself with the basket, lifting the snowy cloth to check the contents. She saw it did not escape Commander Wentworth’s notice.

That’s exactly the sort of fare I miss when I’m at sea, he said. A ship’s biscuit soon loses its novelty, especially when the weevils have their way with it, and I am apt to dream of fruit cake slabs, scones and pots of strawberry jam.

Life must be so very different on board ship without the comforts of home.

It’s not so bad, Miss Elliot, and a sailor soon gets used to the life. Yet, there are some things I miss more than others.

What do you miss most of all, Captain Wentworth?

Civilized company, Miss Anne. She blushed when she heard him say her name. Frederick Wentworth turned to look into her eyes and smile. Deep and dark as velvet, looking back at them made Anne’s heart beat faster. I miss the company and conversation of the fairer sex.

Anne was amused. And, on which particular topics do you enjoy conversing with the ‘fairer sex’?

After being on board ship for months, sometimes a year together, just listening to the softness of a woman’s voice is all the pleasure I require, Miss Elliot. Sailors are apt to be noisy and boisterous, and when I am home, there is no greater delight than in sharing a conversation where an honest exchange will not result in ridicule, and where a quiet voice can soothe with a few syllables.

So, you are not exactly interested in what women have to say, captain...but, merely how they say it.

Not at all. I did not mean to offend, Miss Elliot. Indeed, I find the conversation of many intelligent ladies to be far and away of a superior nature to that of gentlemen’s discourse. My sister Sophie is a great talker on many subjects that I know would interest someone clever and thoughtful like you. I wish you could meet her, but she and her husband, Admiral Croft, are abroad, as I speak.

The subtle praise did not escape Anne’s notice. I would like to meet your sister very much, and the Admiral too.

I hope, Miss Elliot, that they will return home soon to delight in the pleasure of that possibility.

Anne considered that he was being polite, but she couldn’t help feeling pleased that he wanted to bring her to the attention of his sister. If she was a clever woman, he had meant it as a compliment and the very thought gladdened Anne’s heart.

Dame Staples was very grateful for the visit and the thoughtful presents. Under the care of such notice, she was sure to make a swift recovery. Miss Elliot loved being with Commander Wentworth in such intimate circumstances, finding her companion to be attentive and kind to the old lady, even managing to make her smile.

Watching the couple going about their business from her downstairs bed in the corner, with views onto the cheerful cottage garden, provided her with much entertainment. Her shrewd and piercing eyes missed nothing and when on one occasion the two young people’s hands accidentally brushed one another as they smoothed the counterpane, Dame Staples laughed when she saw them jump apart.

He’s a handsome gentleman, Miss Elliot, and you’ve grown into a very pretty young lady. Now, just see that you look after one another, she said as they